Twisted Threads
by Old Man Merlin
Summary: She weaves the threads around and around, yet she grew bored of an unborn legend already told. The legends surrounding Camelot have changed, and no written premonitions can foretell the events to come. Can Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Guinevere and the rest of Camelot survive the changes to their fates?


**AN:** Anyone who can help me find an Old English translator or a good dictionary of sorts? T'would be appreciated for the spell-casting. If no one knows, I'll resort to using Welsh or Icelandic via a translator. So it'll sound magical but probably won't make logical sense.

Also, I have absolutely no idea what kind of pairings – if any – I want to put in this, because the pairings do not matter much to me, be it "normal," "out there," hetero / homo, etc.. Willing to take suggestions (though asking for it will not guarantee it'll happen – you have to make a compelling argument). What will probably happen is I will keep a running tally of convincing arguments from reviews, and some pairings might start to lean towards each other (but keep in mind, if enough other convincing arguments come through, it may start leaning elsewhere! Like life. Love bounces all over the place in life). Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Merlin ... heck, there are a lot of things I'd say I'd do to it.

**Twisted Threads**

* * *

**Chapter One: Beginnings of a Destiny**

In a place where birds dare not chirp, a place the creatures turned their gazes away from, in a place where the earth radiated her strongest, a sacred cavern lay in the depths of the forests' heart. A woman's lavender-dyed cloak trailed across the leaves on the forest floor, sweeping her path as she steadily approached the heart of the woods ahead. With a whisper under her breath, a fallen log moved aside, rolling and rolling until it cleared the path ahead of her.

The witch soon came to a nook in a rocky outcrop, a cave entrance fit for a human's size. She pulled down her hood and consigned her amulets to the nearby tree stump, knowing they would be there when she returned. Her eyes a brilliant blue, dark hair falling about her face in wavy locks, she was a beautiful woman to see. She entered the cave not with fear, nor apprehension, but an understanding that where she would walk was venerated and holy. She had traveled far to get here, avoiding the increased dangers of a world that began to turn its back on the Old Religion.

As the light from the outside world faded from view, the eerie otherworldly hues became visible to her eyes. The air was different, almost nauseating, though no fumes were present. This cave trapped the very essence of life, and sat above the energies of the world – a combination that could no doubt grow densely in power. Various wood-woven ornaments and enchanters hung from the nooks of the caves, completely still from the lack of breeze. Upon closer look, they appeared to vibrate from the sheer energy that gathered in these caves.

She eventually entered a chamber after travelling the corridor, her feet stepping onto a long slate of rock. She saw three figures awaiting her on the rocks, a triad of witches whose power was beyond imagination. They were the direct links of the Triple Goddess: the Disir.

"Welcome, priestess." "Witch known as Nimueh." "Keeper of the Isle of the Blessed." The Disir spoke in turn, greeting her. They appeared to have no qualm in her visitation.

She offered a curtsey in respect. These witches were far closer to the gods than she, and she would always respect their abilities.

"What brings you here?" The triad spoke in unison.

"I have come seeking an answer from the Triple Goddess." She answered, speaking clearly and as objectively as she could. "Some days ago, magic became inert for a few moments. The Isle shook, the sky briefly darkened, the very essences of the world disrupted. I know these to be the signs of a severe change to the woven fates."

They began to answer her in agreement. "She weaves the threads so carefully." "They shine so bright so that all the magical world knows the tale that will unfold." "Anyone can see that the times are changing, and those who heed the Old Religion know the legends to unfold." The Disir spoke in turn, each in a trembling voice that could only be other-worldly as they stood upon the outcrop.

"I sense that something has changed." Nimueh continued to press. She, as a strong advocate of the Old Religion, prayed that the Triple Goddess could answer her. "What have you done?"

"She has twisted the threads around and around." "They still shine, oh so bright, but everyone remains enchanted by the light they cast." "The Triple Goddess has grown tired of a legend already told before its time." "So she has twisted the threads, exchanged their paths, shown the bellies that still cast light but have never seen the world beyond."

"She has changed the fate of the legends of Camelot." Nimueh reasoned, frowning further. Her recent part in the ongoing destruction of her people had been enough; to be unable to tell where it would end concerned her greatly. It was why she had come to one of the most sacred places, a place she knew to be holier than her own. As one of the high priestesses, she could not turn her back on a craft by a greater being. "What is it she plans to do?"

The lady in the middle began to chuckle, her teeth glimmering in the unworldly cavernous lights. "That is for the fate to decide." "And for you and all to discover." "After all, a legend should not be written before it has occurred." "Many coins, many faces." "Many sides to choose from."

The Disir's laughter rang out in the cavern, echoing together as one thought it came from three mouths. The Goddess was present, and she had chosen the judgment. She wove a legend a long time ago, but it was no fun when her children already knew the story she had yet to tell.

Nimueh knew the Disir had spoken, and she was to question them no further. The Goddess was not one to argue with, even when confusion and thin threads of hatred, envy and sorrow tugged at her being. As she took her leave with grace, giving her blessings and prayers to the all-knowing presence among them, the Disir spoke a warning to her as she left.

"Few threads were truly shifted, most were merely twisted." "Only the wisest can realize the change before it becomes reality." "Play your part well, Nimueh." "Yes, play it well."

*  
The seasons cycled. From the spring came the summer, from the summer came the autumn, and now from the autumn came the winter. But it was far from a kind winter. Sheets of snow drifted down from the sky, obscuring the sight so much so that the mountains could not be discerned in the distance, let alone the tree lines.

There was a village dotted in the valley between these mountains, a small outlying farm village with a population of about a hundred – though their numbers were fading. A village of approximately twelve structures, half dedicated to livestock and reserves. The interiors were divided by walls of stone for the different families to live in. Though now, most of the villagers were retreating to the larger structures, where their largest family lived in, so they could all huddle together and face the storm that was tormenting them all.

Inside one such hut, a boy and a mother were together, busily gathering their few possessions that would be needed. The boy rubbed his nose, disgusted by the oozy boogers that trailed out and stuck to his hand. He quickly wiped them onto his pants, though the stickiness remained. But it was too cold out to leave his hands out from under his rat-eaten sweater. He could even see the tips of his fingers turning paler by the moment, so he shoved them back under his armpits where they could stay warm. "Moth'r, couldn't I light the -?"

"No," 'Mother' replied quickly and frantically, quickly walking over to her son sitting with his back against the hearth. It was the only place a draft didn't enter from. "You know you cannot use it, not now. The others will wonder."

He just nodded blankly, knowing the reasons she'd tell him. "Okay."

They both wore all of the clothes they owned, which wasn't a whole lot. He was outgrowing his by the minute, and her clothes were so worn that it mattered little. The entire village's finances were null, especially since the plight of the magicians. Though they did not have foremost magicians beforehand, the knights and mages had made the entire land their battleground. Crops destroyed, trade routes barren, the exchanges they usually made with neighboring villages ceased.

The mother finished gathering what little she could salvage in the twig-woven basket, keeping a firm grasp onto its handles with her bony fingers as she hurried back to where her son sat shivering."Come Merlin, we're going to the other hut."

The little ten-year-old accepted it, with the dim hope that maybe the other place would be warmer. He buried himself in his mothers' skirts as she opened the door, the wind blowing sheets of snow inside. The snow accumulated so much so that it was up to her waist, and the narrow trodden path she had kept clear so far filled fast. She doubted she would be returning to her home again anytime soon. Making sure her son wouldn't be lost or separated, she quickly treaded her way over to one of the homes on the right, where the village was centralizing itself in these dire times.

The mother quickly entered their destination, pulling Merlin in and shutting the door, locking it so a gust of the wind would not knock it open. Dozens of pairs of eyes looked up at them, but they all went back about their business soon enough. Another woman came over, taking the load from the mother. "Good to see you're staying with us, Hunith."

As they settled against one of the walls, re-organizing their supplies, a boy Merlin's age named Will hurried on over and began to converse excitedly with Merlin. He was thrilled to witness such a storm, even though it threatened their very lives. Over in a nearby corner, the elders and adults were conversing quietly amongst themselves, nothing better to do until it was time to clear the snow off the roofs again.

"This is one of the most brutal winters we have ever had …" An older man grumbled, his beard covered in a glaze of snow. Though indoors, it would be a while before it would melt away.

"Y'know how I heard it started?" Another spat, his teeth browned from rot. "It started with the knights chasin' a witch a little east of here. She summoned this snow to trap them, and it hasn't stopped since."

"We may as well dig our own graves if it doesn't end soon." The others were mumbling in agreement.

Hunith overheard them, and inside she worried more. The sentiment against magic in their village was growing. Her son would be in greater danger now.

In the span of a few weeks their situation turned dire: they had little food to begin with, and they were a small village. Several of the huts had caved in from the weight of snow, another caught fire. The villagers had already lost several of the elderly and the two newborns from this year due to the cold, and they massed into three of the remaining huts to keep warm at night. During the day – it was hard to tell, as the storm clouds frequently blocked the daylight – they'd go out as much as they could to shake the snow off the huts, keep the storage safe from rats and scavenge anything they could find to feed themselves.

A few hours in, more villagers settled inside, the adults had reached a decision concerning the livestock. At the moment they were in various huts, but to get to all of the huts was becoming hazardous. And they couldn't lose the livestock in the cold.

"We're moving all of the livestock into one hut," An older man spoke over the whispers of the villagers around him. A mere hundred they were about, but he knew their numbers would likely dwindle. "We're also moving the reserves closer in case the snow traps us. I must ask that the men help steer the livestock; we will need a few of the children to climb down and help clear out as much of the reserve as possible."

Will and Merlin glanced at one another, both not speaking but grinning. As sickly and as cold as they felt, it was far better to get away from their mothers for even a few moments. Merlin looked up at his mother. "Can I?"

Hunith had her reservations, but she nodded. "Alright, but be safe."

After Will had received permission from his own mother, the two scurried over to where the elder stood, along with a teenager and two other children somewhat older than them. Near them, another small group of men and women were gathering to handle the livestock.

The teenager of the group, named Hanry, took the orders from the elder and headed out with the four younger ones behind him, towards the grain. They each held onto the other's clothes or hands so they could not be blinded by the snow, or drop into a snowdrift. They entered the main stores, Hanry locking the door behind him as the children eyed him patiently. "Okay," he began. "Merlin and Yinith, go inside and start passing the sacks and stores out. Stack them here. Myself and Will and Gerad will carry the stores to the new location as a group. Understood?"

They nodded. The village kept their grains and greens stored away in jars and sacks in small underground storage units. They had built a small cave from rock slabs dug up from the farm fields, and it was a tight squeeze to get into. Often times the children and skinny adults would go in and store the food away. It was the safest place to hide emergency food stores from the knights who came about demanding ridiculous taxes, and it was difficult for mice to dig into.

Merlin and Yinith pulled the wooden hatch off the floor and crawled inside, keeping their heads low so they wouldn't hurt themselves on the stone. They started to pull the stores out one at a time, climbing back out to stack them. The other three would come and go, carrying the stores away. After a few hours it was done. There wasn't too much food to recover … a concern they had had before the storm struck.

They climbed back out. Will looked like he had frostbite on his ears, and his nose was a bright pink from the cold.

"Alright, we will go help them clear out the rest of the livestock." Hanry told Merlin, Will, and the other two children, and they moved close together as they quickly walked their way over to the other homes, their feet sinking into the snow nearly up to their knees at times. They were walking around the perimeter of their village. "Merlin, Will, go check out that home! There should be some chickens in there!" Hanry shouted to them, pointing to the doorway entrance nearest to them. The two nodded and waddled their way inside, greeted by the clucking of chickens.

Will stuck his head out to look at Hanry. "We can get 'em, there aren't too many!" He shouted. Hanry nodded and made his way for a nearby hut, where a few pigs likely stayed. The adults were handling the cows. Digging cows through the snow was no easy task.

"Four chickens," Merlin answered, rubbing his hands in an attempt to get warm. He couldn't feel his fingers. He was pretty sure that wasn't good.

"Merlin!" Will hissed excitedly, continuing to shift from foot to foot to produce body heat. The chickens were clucking in one of the corners in the room, massed together in their own effort to keep warm. "Maybe y'could relight the fire over there." He pointed at the fire pit in the middle of the space, a small trail of smoke still drifting up from the wood remains. The people had recently moved out of this building too.

Merlin shook his head, remembering his mother didn't want him to do anything that could endanger them. "Let's get the chickens and go."

"Come on, do one of your tricks!" Will was the only other child who knew of Merlin's magic. He had caught Merlin doing it while fishing in the stream once, and since then, Will had been fascinated by it. He kept quiet for the most part, though, because he saw how nervous Merlin would become at the mere mention of being able to do the impossible. "Warm it up a bit!"

The other ten year old didn't really want to, but the glimmer in Will's eyes encouraged him. For a moment, his mothers' warnings were forgotten. "Okay," he answered, grinning himself. He enjoyed being able to use his tricks, and Will was the only one he could show them off to. So he bounded over to the fire pit, crouching down and examining it, frowning. "I don't really know how."

"Give it a try! Y'can make the smoke do stuff, I bet you can make the fire work too!" Will encouraged while running over to where the chickens were, trying to coax them into coming near enough for him to grab them.

Merlin nodded, stretching his hand out over the coals and trying to concentrate. Every now and then his eyes would flash a flicker of gold, and the coals were getting redder, but the logs refused to light. _Fire … I want bigger fire._ Merlin tried to concentrate, keeping his fingers outstretched in an attempt to will the fire to grow. He couldn't feel any warmth from his near-frost-bitten fingers, even though the coals looked redder.

_Come on, fire, grow!_ He urged, his eyes flashing gold again. This time he felt heat, but saw no fire. So he cleared his mind of nothing but wanting to start that fire, urging the energy to flow from his body to his fingertips, as his magic usually did. His eyes flashed a brilliant gold, and fire did spring up. But it sprung up far more than he planned. It shot up above and around his arm, up as high as the ceiling .

He jumped with a yelp, pulling back as the fire spread to the hay on the floor and began to consume the ceiling rafters. Will spun around as the chickens clucked faster, his own eyes widening as he saw Merlin fall backwards and the fire eat its way down the ceiling.

"Merlin!" he shouted in fear, not of the fire or the magic that had caused it, but at seeing his friend fall back onto the ground. He darted over, forgetting the chickens. Merlin was knocked out. Will noticed that part of the other boys' clothes had caught fire, and he began to beat it out frantically. Merlin's face and front were covered in soot from the explosion of fire. "Come on Merlin!" he hissed, shaking the other, but he wasn't waking.

A giant _CRRRAAACCK!_ sounded above them, and Will looked up. The fire was eating away the already-rotten rafters. He panicked, grabbing Merlin's clothes and dragging him over to the side of the hut. It was getting warmer alright, but smoke was filling the room fast as the fire consumed all. It was hotter than natural fire. Will didn't know what to do.

"Hey! Help!" He kicked at the door, but the door was stuck shut. The stupid snow must've froze it over, being stuck between fire and ice. "Help!"

The roof, however, began to cave. The chickens completely forgotten as Will pulled Merlin up against the wall as best he could, and hoped for the best in a time of the worst.

Hanry had heard the crackling noises, and knew they were unnatural. He poked his head outside the house he had entered, and felt horror creep into his heart. He could see smoke, even through the snow, and the glimmer of fire from the hut he had told the two younger boys to enter. Without another thought he ran out into the snow, to both confirm and dread what was happening.

Other villagers who were gathering the animals heard it too. Some saw the fire, and fearing another hut had caught aflame, they hurried over as well.

"Hanry! What has happened?!" One of the adults shouted as he saw Hanry trying to kick open the door of the burning home.

"It caught fire!" Hanry replied, panicked. The chickens were panicking inside too, one or two of them sounded in pain. "Two of the younger ones are in there, we've got to get them out!"

Hearing the urgency, and the thought of two of their children inside, the adults hurried their way through the snow and helped work their way into the door, avoiding the burning rafters near them. Hanry turned his head and saw Will and Merlin up against the wall near the door. _At least they had the sense to run to this wall and not the far end_, Hanry thought with some relief, but could see that one was unconscious. He quickly scooped up Merlin and grabbed Will's hand, pulling them outside where the other adults could see them. The chickens remained forgotten.

"Come on, let's get them away from this and make sure they're okay!" One of the other adults ordered.

"Yinith and Gerad are in there," Hanry pointed to a nearby house. "Make sure to get them!" Another adult nodded, and went after the other two as the rest helped Hanry escort the two children towards their communal hut.

They rushed the two kids in, and immediately Hunith felt afraid at the sight of her boy being carried in. "Merlin!" She hurried over, scared at what she might see. She was relieved to find he wasn't dead, but she could smell flesh. Burnt flesh. His arm … it was every mother's worst nightmare.

"Come on, let's look him over!" They laid him out on a blanket and an elderly woman began to look over his arm and fingers. They were burned. She didn't know why that would be the only parts of him burned, but she wouldn't ask a child to answer in this state. He was still unconscious anyway.

"Will, what happened?" The elder asked patiently; he could tell that Will was scared and confused.

Will knew he had to lie. He hated lying, but he could do it for Merlin. "… we were getting the chickens. I asked him to see if he could start the fire pit again. He got a little fire going, but then the snow caved the roof in …"

The elders looked amongst each other, taking this information in.

"Could a fire still spread as quick as it did? The other hut didn't burn as quick as this."

"No, it could." An elder named Rogger answered solemnly as he turned to the others. "There was hay in there, wasn't there? Scattered all about the floor for the chickens we chased into there ... it could easily catch fire."

The others accepted this answer, though Hunith was still scared. Her heart was pounding in her chest as the elder who was most adept with medicine looked over Merlin's arm, while Hunith still continued to wipe the soot from the rest of his face. "How bad is it?" Hunith asked worriedly.

"Can't say … the burns aren't too bad, but another sickness could take him if we don't get good care for it." He answered, looking over the wounds. He tried not to touch them, for the skin was so raw and delicate that touching it made it bleed or worsen. "We'll have to use what little medicine we've got left if we are to treat this properly."

_Merlin, why does misfortune befall you …?_ Bad luck seemed to follow him. A gift, a kind heart, attracted all kinds of mischief and trouble.

Hunith looked over at Will, concerned for the other boy too as his own parents cleaned him up. "Are you alright yourself, Will?"

"Yes ma'am." He answered quietly. He felt guilty; he had encouraged Merlin to light the fire, even though he knew Merlin couldn't fully control things at times. _It's my fault he got burned._

The elders and Hunith kept an eye on Merlin. He woke up the next day, and thankfully he still had use of his arm but he didn't remember the fire or anything after. Will wouldn't talk to him at first. Merlin felt mostly sleepy, and poked at his arm, frowning. He couldn't feel the pain or the wound. After that, the elders insisted it be tightly wrapped and he couldn't look at it anymore. He could move everything, but he never felt the pain of the burns on his right arm and his fingers.

Hunith still worried; the wound was prone to infection, and they did not have much medicine left. _If only I could get him to Gaius …_ but the storm made that impossible. She feared Merlin might heal too quickly or try something else to fix it, and maybe the other villagers would find out his secret. That was the last thing she wanted.

A few days later a tradesman had managed to work his way into their village. The villagers were grateful for his arrival, quickly bringing him and his horse in.

"Thank the gods you're here," One of the elders replied happily, welcoming him in.

The tradesman was named Galfrid. He occasionally rode into their village, through they did not expect him in this weather. "The storm is affecting nearly all of Ealdor, not just here. Many other places have it worse. You know the village on the western slopes?" They nodded. "It's gone. An avalanche took them away."

"What have you brought us?" An older woman asked, approaching him carefully. "We're in need of medicine. A few elders are sick, and one of our children has burns."

"Burns?" Galfrid raised an eyebrow.

"Hunith's son." She nodded over to where the mother doted over her son, making sure he remained still and warm. "One of the huts collapsed under the snow and caught fire. He and another got stuck in it."

Galfrid nodded. "I've brought mostly food … there are some medicines in here," he answered, taking his pack off and taking the wares out for them to look at. Some of the adults began gathering a few of the coins they had to be able to pay the tradesman for his troubles. The elder woman took the jar of a medicinal tincture over to Hunith and the boy.

"What is that?" Hunith asked cautiously as the woman popped the jar open.

"A reliever medicine. The tradesman brought it. I know he says he don't feel anything, but this should help heal as well."

"The tradesman Galfrid?" Hunith repeated, and the older woman nodded. The tradesman came from a village near Camelot, didn't he? _Maybe he could take Merlin to Camelot._ Her heart skipped a beat at this realization. Maybe, just maybe, she could get her son out of here after all. "I'll return in a moment," she quickly told the elderly woman , and hurried to the tradesman at the door as he had finished removing the goods and was granted a bowl of porridge from the villagers.

"Galfrid! Galfrid!" Hunith hurried over to the tradesman before he could chance to leave. He turned, wondering why she needed to speak to him. "Please, I have a great favor to ask of you."

"What is it, Hunith?"

Though as a mother she wished to keep her son, she also knew he could receive better care elsewhere. "Could you take my boy with you?"

The tradesman was bewildered, and rightfully so. "I'm sorry?"

"My boy, Merlin. He has burns from an accident," she answered. "I have a relative in Camelot who could care for him there better."

"I am sorry, but taking a child out into this is sheer stupidity." Galfrid answered quickly, refastening his own cloak in an effort to retain what body heat he had. "The horse has enough trouble getting through the snow, and any of us could die from the cold."

"Please, you have to!" She begged, pleading him with glassy eyes. "I can't chance leaving my son here any longer. Either the cold will get him, or another incident will!"

Galfrid bit his lip; he was one of three others in the lands near Ealdor who had known of Hunith's husbands' abilities, and the likelihood that the child would have them, too. He was wise enough to guess the child had started the fire by unnatural means. "He's more likely to die out there with me than he is here."

"I have an uncle. He's in Camelot, he's trusted by the King." She answered rather hastily. "He can take my boy in, at least for a while. He'll be able to feed him and keep him safe. And there, you'll be able to plead with the King to help us." He continued to shake his head, but she continued to insist. "I'll pay you for your troubles! I merely want my boy safe!"

"You honestly think he will be safer out in the cold? Even moreso, Camelot? They're executing scores of people like him there at this very moment." He hissed under his breath so the others could not hear.

"My uncle will keep him safe. He's a physician, he knows the value of life, and he can treat Merlin's burns better than any of us." She said with blinding faith. Her words were becoming convincing. "If he stays here, he'll go hungry, or die of the cold, or …" _Or his kind heart will nearly kill him again._ "Please!"

He hesitated for a moment, seriously considering the options. Leaving the child here was safer, in his mind. But an excuse to travel to Camelot, a chance to plead with their King for emergency supplies, increased the incentive of taking the boy. And a mother's instincts were often right. He knew taking one starving mouth would provide a little bit more food for the others. Already they lost the two newborns (at least the other elders had told him so), and the younger ones grew sicker. "… Alright. I shall try."

Hunith's gratefulness knew no boundaries, as she wrapped him in a hug, tears coming out of her eyes from the chance she had been granted. "Thank you! Thank you! I shall write a letter for my Uncle, so he will know to help when you arrive."

He sighed, nodding. "Go get your boy, and any supplies you can. Clothe him in all you've got."

"Yes, thank you, Galfrid!" Hunith covered her face in a shawl and hurried back outside into the cold, heading for the dwelling where others were looking after her boy and the burns on his arm and fingers.

"I'll ready your horse, sir," A young man answered behind Galfrid, and nearly hurried out into the cold when Galfrid interrupted.

"Do so in an hour," he told the young man before he could rush out to fetch the horse. "The boy's mother will need time to pack."

Merlin looked at his mother, confused as to why she had run off. The old woman had made him swallow something that tasted like grass, but at least it settled in an empty stomach nicely. "What is it, mother?"

"You'll be leaving with Galfrid, Merlin." She answered, running her fingers through his hair. "He'll take you to Camelot for the time being."

"What?" He felt his heart fall, his eyes growing wide. "Mother, I don't want to leave you …"

"Merlin, you must trust me." She answered with all the love in the world, clasping his small hands in her own. "I'll be sending you to your Uncle, named Gaius. He is a physician, he can care for the burns better than I, and keep you fed during this winter."

The ten year old remained scared. "… But … Camelot is where they're taking all the sorcerers, right …?"

Hunith knew that would be a concern. "Don't worry. Gaius can be trusted with that, too. He _will_ keep you safe." She answered, trying to comfort him. "I will visit you when the storm is finished." She promised with a smile. "But please, you must go with him now … I won't have you stay if you're more likely to die here."

Merlin was crying. He didn't want to be separated from his mother, even if he understood why. "… Okay. I'll go. Promise you'll come get me later?"

"A mother always comes for her child," Hunith replied lovingly, hugging him. "Trust me. This is best for now."

He had no way of knowing if it was a better choice or not, but he trusted his mother. She kept him alive this long, even with his unexplainable powers.

His mother went off to pack a bag for him, retrieving some clothes the others were willing to give to help Merlin stay warm on the journey. Merlin sat up, feeling dread. He didn't want to leave the only place he had known, but the numbness of the cold was distorting his ability to feel the pain, and the burns on his right arm still bled … it had to be bad, right? Sending him to a doctor would be good, right? His arm was beginning to itch. That definitely couldn't be good, right?

A voice interrupted his thoughts. Merlin looked up to see Will standing there. It was the first time the other boy would speak to him. "What?" Merlin asked, not catching the first words.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Will frowned, feeling guilty. "I told you to … poke at the coals." He knew he couldn't mention Merlin's tricks in front of others.

Merlin could sense the other's guilt, and he too felt dread. "No no, it is not your fault. I mean … I can't feel anything. And I am sure it will heal!"

It did nothing to console the other.

Hunith returned, re-wrapping his burns tightly and layering him in the clothes she had gathered. He couldn't tell much if it kept him warm, but he knew it would once he was out there. He got up on his feet, stumbling a little but was able to walk on his own. He kept his arm against his stomach. It did not ache when he did that. She gave him a pack filled with some food and other necessities, kissing him on the forehead after walking him over to where Galfrid was. "Take care, Merlin."

"Okay, Mother." He answered sadly, hugging his mother's legs tightly. He still didn't want to go. But throwing a fit wouldn't help this time. He could sense it. She handed him a letter that he was to give to this 'Gaius.' He had heard of Gaius before, but never met the man.

Galfrid greeted him, and when Merlin was done saying goodbye to his mother, he took him out to where the horse was. The young man from before helped Merlin up onto it, sitting in front of Galfrid so the young boy wouldn't be bucked off.

"It's going to be a long ride there," Galfrid warned. "Normally it's a three-day ride, but the snow will make the journey longer. Ready boy?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly. He already missed his mother. His voice was muffled by the blanket the young man had tucked around him and his face. Galfrid steered the horse forward in the snow, and indeed it was slow. It ambled past the houses and past the fields. Merlin tried to look back in the snow, but he couldn't see the village he called home anymore. The storm blocked it all out. So he turned forward, ignoring the numbness setting into his body. He didn't know what would await him – who this Gaius was, or Camelot, or wherever this horse would go. He was mostly scared, but a small tinge of excitement arose in him as well. He was finally going beyond the village boundaries … he would see a part of the world he had not yet seen. He only hoped he'd survive the journey so he'd be able to see it.


End file.
